Photography

You'll Poke An Eye Out

We had a fun weekend away at Williamsburg, Virginia, just the two of us. It's nice getting away without the kids on occasion. This, however, wasn't strictly a fun vacation type thing. We were lured into a trap of Time Share Vacation Homes. You know the thing where you go listen to the time share presentation for 90 (supposed) minutes, and in return are given free accommodations for the weekend and other fee things as incentive to show up? Yes, that. We love free things. A lot.

The accommodations were top notch. In fact, I told Sam that when we retire I want a house set up like that. Small, functional, and beautiful. The lack of free WiFi was a downer, but a small price to pay for free accommodations. Without kids.

On Saturday morning we were toured around all the must-see areas of Williamsburg before heading to the conference center to listen to all that time shares have to offer. Just as we were sitting down to discuss numbers, Sam's phone rang. It was Josh. The kids don't call us while we're away unless it's an emergency, because we have texting. And the kids crave that break from parents just as much as we crave it from them, so they're not in contact very much of their own accord. Sam took the call. When he hung up, I asked who called, because Sam wouldn't have taken a call during a meeting unless it was something pretty major.

So here's the thing. When you're doing weed trimming, you really should wear safety glasses. Really. You should. Josh, however, was not. A rock hit him in the eye. Thankfully he was with his cousin, who saw him standing there weed eating one minute, and on the ground the next, and realized something was terribly wrong. The phone call was to ask if he should take Josh to the emergency room or not. (Let it be noted that Josh couldn't see out of the injured eye.)

I mentioned that I have been emotional lately. I still am, for crying out loud. (Literally.) When Sam told me what was going on at home, the rational side of my mind that I know and love said, "he can't see because the eye is in shock. His vision will return as it recovers." But my emotionally charged side said, "OH MY GOSH MY SON IS BLIND!!!!!!" and commenced panic mode. I cried. Right there at the conference table while the poor, poor salesman was trying to tell us how awesome time share vacation homes are. At least he had the good manners to ask if I was alright. Normally I lie my way through things like this, but MY GOSH, MY SON ALMOST PUT HIS EYE OUT. (Hello, emotions.) So I was honest and said, "No, I'm not okay. My son is at the emergency room because a rock hit his eye and he lost vision." This salesman had a heart, and was also a father, and said that if he got that phone call he'd have just walked out and never turned back, and thanked me for staying because he had a job to do and he'd do it as quickly as he could because he knew that I wanted to get home to my son. I did, too, except that I was 5 hours from home. By the time I reached my son at the emergency department, he'd have been treated and sent home and my trip would be for no other purpose than to simply to stand there and hover over him while he recovered. At least my rational side won out on THAT matter, but my emotional side compensated by crying because I couldn't be with my kid during an emergency. (I hate crying. Especially in public.)

The manager, however, was far less compassionate. The salesman has to hand over to a manager to be sure we know all the fine points of a vacation home, and offer us fabulous numbers that should be hard to refuse, except I have no idea what those numbers might be because MY KID MAY LOSE HIS EYESIGHT FOREVER IN ONE EYE AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHICH EYE IT IS BECAUSE I'M NOT THERE. (Calm yourself, emotional side. You're starting to annoy me.) This guy noticed that I was rather weepy and tried ignoring it, but eventually realized he had to ask if I was alright. I replied that I was not, and explained again. This man simply stared back at me like I was making this stuff up, complete with real tears. Finally he said, "I'm sorry for your son. Vacation time shares...." Heartless beast. I hope his expensive car breaks down tomorrow and never runs again. I snuffled a little louder and was sure to squeeze out a few more tears just for his benefit. I also wish I'd have thought to kick him under the table (accidentally, of course) and leave a crumpled tissue on one of his papers, but I just wasn't thinking clearly. Pity, really.

The third and final sales pitch was met with a super compassionate man who pretty much said, "I have to go over this once more because there are cameras on me, but if you tell me you're not interested under the circumstances I'll just let you go." I mentally hugged that guy for knowing that family always comes first no matter what you're previously committed to.

The awesome thing about being small town, and Sam working at the hospital, is that he knows the ER docs well. He'd called to see which doc was working, and asked that doc to give us a report after seeing our son so that we knew what was really going on. Josh is king of only telling us what he wants us to know, so we weren't sure we were going to entirely trust the information he'd give us in regards to recovery. Josh was referred to an eye doctor, who said the same thing the ER doc did, and given drops and ointment to use until a follow up appointment on Monday. The verdict is that his cornea was scratched, his pupil was non responsive and there was bleeding behind the eye that needed to drain by sitting upright at all times, even while sleeping. He has an eye shield to wear to protect him from rubbing his eye, but he refuses to wear that. His vision has also improved enough to pretty much be able to see as clearly as one is going to be able to see with thick ointment covering the surface of the eyeball, so that's grand.

So we had a weekend away at colonial Williamsburg, but it wasn't as relaxing as it could have been. We have a son with two good eyes, a lesson learned, and no time share vacation home.